


Ghosts Aren't Real

by arysa13



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Enemies to Lovers, F/M, Fluff, Halloween, Halloween Costumes, Haunted Houses, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-15
Updated: 2015-10-15
Packaged: 2018-04-26 11:29:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,205
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5003101
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arysa13/pseuds/arysa13
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bellamy dares Clarke to spend the night in an creepy old abandoned house to prove she's not scared of ghosts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ghosts Aren't Real

It was Octavia’s idea for Clarke to dress as Sandy from Grease for Halloween and in hindsight Clarke really should have seen this coming. She rolled her eyes and groaned loudly when she arrived with Raven at the Blake’s annual Halloween party, only to see Bellamy dressed as Danny, looking ridiculously gorgeous of course, but that was beside the point. Raven didn’t bother trying to hold back her laughter when she saw the matching costumes.

            “Seriously, Griffin?” Bellamy snorted when he noticed what she was wearing.

            “Blame Octavia,” she snapped “Did you know about this?” Clarke narrowed her eyes, turning on Raven.

            “I swear I didn’t,” Raven assured her, still grinning, but Clarke wasn’t totally convinced. She continued to glare at Raven until Octavia waltzed into the room dressed as a flapper, her glee plastered all over her face.

            “You two look so cute!” she gushed.

            “I’m going to kill you,” Clarke seethed.

            “Calm down, it’s just a costume,” Octavia rolled her eyes.

            “Everyone’s going to think we organised this and that we like each other now,” Clarke scowled. As if to prove her point, Jasper and Monty bounded into the room, Jasper gasping as he looked between Bellamy and Clarke in astonishment.

            “Oh my god,” he said. “Matching costumes… are you two… _dating_?” he practically squealed.

            “No!” Bellamy and Clarke yelled at the same time.

            “Okay, sorry,” Jasper flinched.

            “I need a drink,” Bellamy and Clarke said in unison before glaring at each other.

            “Don’t you ever have an independent thought, Bellamy?” Clarke snorted.

            “You’re the one who showed up here wearing a costume to match mine,” Bellamy retorted. “By the way, black lycra, really not a good look on you. Should’ve gone with lame Sandy.”

            “She’s not lame just because she doesn’t wear tight clothes,” Clarke snapped.

            “She’s lame because she spends the whole movie pining over some douchebag who does whatever his friends tell him,” Bellamy returned.

            “You’re the one dressed as said douchebag,” Clarke reminded him.

            “And Jasper is dressed as Ross from Friends, it’s Halloween, we don’t have to dress up as good people,” Bellamy pointed out.

            “Is that who you’re supposed to be?” Octavia screwed up her nose at Jasper.

            “How about we go and get that drink now?” Raven interjected, dragging Clarke from the room and into the kitchen. Clarke started to protest but Raven stopped her. “You were going to lose that argument.”

            “I was not,” Clarke sulked but she knew Raven was probably right. Bellamy was unfairly good at out-arguing her. Raven handed her a drink and Clarke sipped it, still sulking slightly.

            “Seriously though, what are you afraid is going to happen if you and Bellamy admit you like each other?” Raven sighed.

            “We _don’t_ like each other,” Clarke scowled. “He’s a terrible human being.”

            “Because he dobbed you in to your mom when you skipped school that one time in freshman year,” Raven raised an eyebrow.

            “Yes!” Clarke exclaimed, as if it were a totally reasonable explanation to hate someone. Raven looked at her pointedly. “That was just the start of it,” Clarke tried to explain. “He’s insufferable. He acts like he knows better than me about everything when he _doesn’t_ , and he’s arrogant and stubborn…” Clarke ranted.

            “You sound like you’re describing yourself,” Raven said with a snort of laughter.

            “Not to mention he’s a total womaniser,” Clarke continued, ignoring Raven’s comment.

            “You’re the only one who seems to mind that he sleeps with a lot of women. I wonder what the reason could be?” Raven smirked knowingly. Clarke made a strangled noise of exasperation.

            “I don’t like him! Why am I even talking to you? And by the way your costume is ridiculous,” Clarke said, storming out of the kitchen.

            “Hey, you said dressing up as Kermit the Frog was a brilliant idea!” Raven called after her.

-

            A few hours later, when Clarke was considerably drunker, she found herself in the front yard, talking to Octavia, Monty and Jasper.

            “Next year I’m dressing up as something sexy,” Raven complained as she joined the group, offering Clarke another drink. “People keep getting creeped out when I try to hit on them in a Kermit voice.”

            “I don’t blame them,” Octavia laughed taking the drink that was meant for Clarke. Raven glanced across the road to a massive three story house stood looming over them. It was so stereotypically creepy looking, with wrought iron gates, a couple of smashed windows, all dark inside and an overgrown garden due to being abandoned for years.

            “I hate that building, it’s so creepy,” Jasper shivered, following Raven’s gaze.

            “Perfect for Halloween,” Monty grinned.

            “Hey, Bellamy!” Raven called. Clarke whipped around to see Bellamy coming out of the house.

            “Don’t call him over here,” she hissed, but Raven ignored her.

            “Next year you should host the party there,” she said as Bellamy walked over.

            “I would but it’s private property. Whoever owns it won’t sell it or do anything to it but they’re too rich to go up against. Besides, you guys couldn’t handle it, it’s totally haunted,” Bellamy grinned with a wink and the gesture made Clarke’s stomach flip over in an act of betrayal.

            “Please,” Clarke snorted, mostly to quash the fluttering in her belly. “There’s no such thing as ghosts.”

            “Oh yeah, and how would you know?” Bellamy rolled his eyes.

            “Have you ever seen one?” Clarke pointed out.

            “No, but I’ve never seen a narwhal either,” Bellamy said.

            “It’s impossible for ghosts to exist! Once you’re dead, you’re dead,” Clarke asserted.

            “If you’re so sure, how about you go and spend the night in that building and tell me you aren’t scared,” Bellamy challenged. Clarke was silent for a moment and Bellamy looked triumphant, like he knew he’d won again.

            “Like you said, it’s private property. Trespassing is illegal,” Clarke said defensively.

            “Right, that’s what you’re worried about,” Bellamy said sarcastically. “It’s okay, we all know what you’re really afraid of. So just admit ghosts could exist and we’ll forget all about it.”

            “Never,” Clarke declared.

            “So you’re going to sleep there tonight?” Bellamy raised an eyebrow. “The whole night? Alone? And you won’t freak out?”

            “Exactly. Give me a sleeping bag.”

-

            Bellamy helped her over the fence while Raven, Octavia, Monty and Jasper stood on the street and watched. The party was still in full swing back at the Blake’s house and no one would miss them for a few minutes.

            “I can climb a fence by myself Bellamy,” Clarke said through gritted teeth as he gripped onto her waist and tried to hoist her over. She knew she probably shouldn’t be blushing so much at just the feel of his hands on her waist, but it was dark and he couldn’t see anyway.

            “Would you just let me help you?” Bellamy growled. Clarke glared at him.

            “Fine,” she said shortly. She kicked off the red heels she was wearing and he lifted her over the fence and threw the sleeping bag over at her. She caught it and started marching towards the house until she heard a thud behind her. She turned to see Bellamy on the same side of the fence as her.

            “What are you doing?” she hissed.

            “Making sure you get inside alright,” Bellamy said. It sounded sweet, but Clarke knew he was just checking she didn’t back out of the dare.

            “I’m fine,” Clarke told him, but he followed her anyway. She tried opening the front door, but it was locked of course.

            “Really?” Bellamy shook his head at her patronisingly.

            “It was worth a try,” she scowled. She ended up crawling in through one of the broken windows.

            “Are you alright?” Bellamy asked her once she was inside.

            “I’m _fine_ ,” Clarke assured him once again. “Now would you leave me alone so I can get some sleep?”

            “Alright,” Bellamy agreed. “Sleep well,” he chuckled.

            “Yeah, yeah, get lost,” Clarke said, and she heard him laughing as he walked away. She studied her surroundings. She appeared to be in the living room, although the only furniture was an ancient sofa that had definitely seen better days. The light from the moon was the only thing that allowed Clarke to see anything at all, but she could easily see that everything was covered in dust.

            “There’s probably bugs and rats in here,” she muttered to herself. She was more worried about those than any so-called ghosts.

            Clarke rolled out the sleeping bag and set it on the floor. She’d rather that than sleep on the questionable looking sofa. She climbed into the sleeping bag and closed her eyes. It wasn’t exactly comfortable, but that was the price she had to pay to prove Bellamy wrong.

            Silence filled the room, and Clarke couldn’t help but realise how alone she was. She wasn’t _scared_ … there had to be some other explanation for how hard her heart was thumping. She heard a creaking coming from somewhere in the house and she started, then cursed herself for being so silly. She squeezed her eyes shut as tight as possible and willed herself to sleep. If she was asleep she wouldn’t hear any weird noises.

            Except now she swore she could hear footsteps.

            “Bellamy?” she called out. No answer. It had to be him. There was no such thing as ghosts. The sound of footsteps stopped and she breathed out, not even realising she had been holding her breath. The wind picked up then, and the nearby trees scratched across the window. Well, she thought it was the wind, but when she glanced outside she could see it was completely still.

“Stop messing with me!” she called, hating the waver in her voice. The footsteps sounded again and she could hear the floorboards creak in the hall outside the living room. She debated with herself for a minute before sliding out of the sleeping bag and padding across the floor gingerly, still barefoot. She ducked her head around the corner but the hall was empty. She heard a crash come from a room somewhere down the hall and she decided to follow it.

She walked into another almost empty room, smaller this time. There was a broken frame on the ground and she bent to pick it up. A newspaper article slipped out and she read the headline. **Eight Year Old Boy Dies in House Fire.** The door slammed behind her and she started, before quickly standing up and heading back to the door. She tried to turn the handle but it wouldn’t budge.

“Let me out!” she cried, banging on the door. Realising it was futile she turned to look around the room. There was another door on the other side. She wasn’t sure if it was an exit or a closet but it was worth a try so she marched over and tried to pull it open, but it too was stuck.

“This isn’t funny!” she yelled, banging on the door. She was about sixty per cent sure by now that it was Bellamy and not ghosts. The door behind her creaked open slowly and she turned to go out, but before she could, someone jumped out at her and screeched. She couldn’t stop herself from shrieking, even as she realised it was just Bellamy in an ugly mask.

“I hate you!” she yelled, thumping her fists on his chest. He just laughed as he put his arms around her and crushed her to his chest so she couldn’t move her arms to hit him anymore. She was well aware of how much she liked being in his arms, but she wasn’t about to let him know that.

“Admit you were scared?” Bellamy chuckled into her hair.

“I knew it was you,” she mumbled into his chest. “And this doesn’t prove ghosts are real.”

“It was fun though,” Bellamy said, and though she couldn’t see his face she knew he was smirking.

“You’re the worst,” Clarke grumbled.

“Fine, you don’t have to admit that you were scared, and you don’t have to admit ghosts are real,” Bellamy conceded.

“I know,” Clarke said.

“But only…” Bellamy continued, finally letting her out of his embrace, “if you admit you like me.” Clarke narrowed her eyes at him. Admitting she actually liked him was way scarier than spending the night in a haunted house.

“You say it first,” Clarke said. Bellamy sighed.

“Fine. I like you, okay?” he admitted. “And I was lying about the lycra. It definitely is a good look for you.”

“I know,” Clarke smirked.

“And?”

“And what?”

“Clarke.”

“Fine. I like you too. Happy now?” Clarke relented, and even though he’d already said it, she found herself blushing again.

“Not quite,” Bellamy grinned wolfishly before grabbing her around the waist and pulling her back into his arms so he could kiss her. She wound her arms around his neck, deepening the kiss.

“Can we not tell the others yet?” she breathed as he let her up for air. “You know what they’ll be like.”

“Good call,” Bellamy chuckled. “But they know I’m here so they might figure it out.”

“Maybe they’ll assume ghosts killed us?”

“Ghosts aren’t real, Clarke,” Bellamy snorted, shaking his head before leaning in to kiss her again. 


End file.
